Where They Understand
by TheInfallibleSnaps
Summary: "Home is not where you live, but where they understand you." Christian Morgenstern. Sirius has finally had enough of his maniacal Pureblood parents. Where should he go? What should he do? The answer is obvious: James.
1. Chapter 1

**_"Home is not where you live, but where they understand you."_**

Sirius furiously kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, muttering darkly under his breath. Overwhelmed by a fresh bout of anger, he attempted to run, before realizing how ridiculous he looked running while awkwardly lugging a trunk at his side. Where was he supposed to go? He cursed himself for not planning out his great escape.

He wasn't crying. _He wasn't crying_. It was more like…an angry sniffling. Sirius brought a hand to his eyes and angrily swiped. He was crying.

"Bloody ridiculous," he muttered to himself. "Get your act together, Black."

Dejectedness washed over him, and he let go of his trunk and plopped down on the curb. _Now what?_

_Andromeda_, a voice inside him whispered. _She'd understand_.

_Nah. I don't want to bother her. _

Sirius buried his face in his hands. What do you tell someone when you show up at their house after you've ran away from home? With a slightly bruised eye that anyone could tell was from a punch? _Hi, hello, um, guess what? I ran away from my mad Pureblood supremacist parents and would you mind if I stay here for a while?_

And that was when Sirius felt like smacking his forehead. Why didn't he think of it before? James!

After all, James and his parents were the closest things he had to family, and he'd spent most of his holidays at their home, but he'd never stayed there knowing he'd never go back home.

Just as Sirius stood up, a new purpose in his step, it began to rain. He groaned. "Oh, come on."

It _had_ to rain just when he had figured out what to do. And James didn't exactly live next door to him. Sirius shook himself. _It's just a bit of rain, _he coaxed himself.

After approximately thirty seconds of trudging along in this state, the rain increased at an ungodly rate, as if some higher power in the sky was emptying buckets of freezing water onto the streets. Sirius flung his trunk down again and let out a frustrated sound. There was no way he was going anywhere.

It was then realization dawned upon him. Sirius drew his wand. _The wand hand_, he remembered. A little shakily, he extended his arm and pointed his wand outwards. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Then—a loud, screeching noise, one of tires squealing against concrete. Sirius closed his eyes, sighed, and prepared himself for what was rumored to be a jarring ride.

**Thanks for reading! Feedback is much appreciated:) Particularly on my characterization and writing style.**

**The second chapter will be up shortly.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two! I think I like this one better than the first:)**

Sirius stood hesitantly at the foot of the steps. Anyone else would have stupidly stared at the sheer size of Potter Manor, but Sirius was both used to large houses and too nauseous to care. He squeezed his eyes shut. His long, dark (and dripping wet) hair clung to the sides of his face. Sirius decided he would never ride the Knight Bus again if his life depended upon it.

He took deep breaths as his queasiness slowly ebbed away. The rain fell as steadily as ever, and Sirius' hands shook on the handle of his trunk. What was he supposed to say? He was on his best friend's doorsteps, sopping wet, slightly swaying from the Knight Bus, and sporting a bruised eye along with a trunk and a wand. Now he had to articulate his thoughts.

_Hello, Mrs. Potter, I was wondering if I could stay at your house for a while? Oh, why, you ask? It's nothing; I just got kicked out of house. And by that, I mean I ran away. While you're at it, could I have some ice for my eye?_

Sirius nearly winced from embarrassment. It sounded dumb even in his mind. First of all, who would answer the door? James or Mr. and Mrs. Potter? What if they weren't even home?

_To hell with it_, Sirius thought finally. He curled his hand into a fist and knocked on the door. He flinched at the unexpectedly loud noise as he heard, "James, get the door!"

He waited.

"James Potter, answer the door!"

Sirius managed a smile. Definitely Mrs. Potter.

"I'm _going_, mum! Merlin!"

Sirius heard the patter of footsteps, and the door swung open. A gust of warmth washed over him, and James Potter stood in the doorway.

"Padfoot! What—" said James, his eyes flickering from Sirius to his trunk to his wand defiantly clenched in his hand. "Oh."

"_Oh_," Sirius mimicked bitterly.

James fell silent, and, suddenly—stepped forward to hug him. Sirius blinked feverishly—he wasn't going to cry again. He clung to James like a lifeline.

James led him inside. The walk down the long hallway to the living room seemed lengthier than before.

When they reached the doorway to the parlor at last, James said quietly, "You can stay here."

"No, you don't have to, I'll—"

"Mate, just go up to my room and I'll explain everything to mum, all right?"

Without waiting for an answer, James strode into the living room.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter's smiles changed from greeting to inquisition. Sirius awkwardly waved at them with his free hand.

"Sirius, darling, come join us!" said Mrs. Potter warmly, gesturing from her position on the couch.

James leaned close to his mother and whispered something Sirius couldn't hear but knew the gist of anyway.

"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Potter sadly. She glanced at Sirius. "You're soaking wet, let me take care of that."

Sirius warily advanced to the three Potters. "I'm really sorry to bother you all, but—"

"No, no, don't be sorry," said Mrs. Potter. She smoothed Sirius' hair (and wiped her wet hand on her robes).

Five minutes later, Sirius was perched on the couch, fully dry but wrapped in a blanket at Mrs. Potter's insistence holding a cup of tea.

"Mum, Sirius and I are going up to my room," said James, impatiently hovering above Sirius with an untouched mug of tea in his hands like everyone else.

Sirius shot James a grateful look, shed the blanket, and stood. Facing Mr. and Mrs. Potter, he said, "Er…thank you for…you know."

"It's fine, dear," said Mrs. Potter anxiously, watching the two climb the stairs.

James shut the door of his bedroom as soon as Sirius entered. He sat in a chair by his desk and Sirius on his bed. James was still silent, a most uncommon trait for him. He studied Sirius with thoughtful hazel eyes, waiting for Sirius to initiate a conversation. When it became apparent that he was bursting with questions, Sirius smiled wryly.

"Shoot."

"You don't have to say anything," James replied. "But…"

"You have questions radiating off of you, mate," said Sirius. He managed a laugh.

"Who did it?" asked James immediately.

"Who did what?"

"Your eye. Someone punched you. Was it Regulus?" said James.

"Oh. That," muttered Sirius. "No. Regulus is a coward. He'd have never done it. It was my dad."

"D'you need ice or something?" said James, ruffling his hair.

"No," said Sirius defiantly.

"Er…did you get away or did they…you know?" asked James tentatively.

Sirius leaned back against the headboard. "Both. Mostly me. I think. I dunno."

"Oh," said James. "You know you can stay here as long as you like, right?"

"I know. Thanks," said Sirius, smiling crookedly.

"It'll be brilliant," assured James. "We can invite Moony and Wormtail whenever we want. You can fetch some of the stuff from your room and put it up here—"

"No, thanks," said Sirius, rolling his eyes. "Like I want to be reminded of the worst place I've ever been."

"Why was that, your horrendous sense of interior design?" teased James.

They both laughed. To Sirius, it was like a breath of fresh air, and the anger inside him faded away like his queasiness had on the doorsteps.

"You're sure you're all right?" said James.

Sirius smiled. "I'm sure."

**Thanks for reading! Feedback is much appreciated:) Particularly on my characterization and writing style.**


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